Chapter 8
The instant Sophie saw Ethan Foster, she smiled by instinct. She opened her mouth to call “Daddy,” but then she caught sight of Daisy, perched on Ethan’s knee, scrunching her face and making a mocking grimace at her.
The word “Daddy” stuck in Sophie’s throat.
Her eyes filled with tears. Her lips wobbled, but in the end she held back and didn’t cry. She swiped the back of her hand across her eyes and turned away.
Ethan saw the hurt on his daughter’s face, his brows knotting tight. He stood to go after her, but Vivian Moore grabbed his hand and held him down.
Watching her daughter’s lonely little back retreating, pain clawed at Grace White’s heart until it seized. In that instant, she even wanted to kill Ethan. She shot him a vicious glare and ran out to find Sophie.
She searched and searched and couldn’t find her. A bad premonition rose in her chest. There seemed to be children arguing by the pool. She hurried toward the pool.
She had barely reached the corridor corner when Vivian blocked her path. A few hangers-on clustered behind Vivian. Vivian flashed an evil smile—then lifted her hand and slapped Grace hard across the face.
Grace’s cheek went numb. Vivian shook out her stinging palm and said with arrogant relish, “Grace, that slap you gave me? I had to give back.”
Grace didn’t want to argue with her; her mind was on her daughter. “Move. I don’t have time for you.”
But Vivian stuck to her like glue. “Grace, have you no shame? Since you’re divorced, stop hovering around Ethan. I know exactly what you’re doing—using your daughter to squeeze out sympathy so he’ll remarry you.”
Her cronies chimed in, one after another.
“Right—what, you want to be the ex-husband’s mistress after the divorce?”
“With morals like that, don’t poison the kid.”
“Like mother, like daughter; a cheap mother breeds a cheap brat.”
Hearing them insult her daughter made Grace shake with rage. “Who are you calling a brat?” She raised her hand and slapped the speaker, hard.
The shouts from the pool were getting louder. Grace could just make out Sophie’s crying. Panic tore through her; she spun and ran for the natatorium—
Vivian yanked her by the hair. Pain ripped across Grace’s scalp.
“Bitch, did Ethan go looking for you the other night?” Vivian hissed. “He came back and fought with me. You and your brat are to blame. Don’t worry—I’ll ‘take care’ of you here. And as for that little brat you birthed, my Daisy and her friends will ‘take care’ of her, too.”
Cold ran down Grace’s spine, a serpent’s warning. From the pool came the faint, terrified scream of her daughter. The terror blew something open inside Grace; strength flooded her like a lightning strike. She drove her foot into Vivian’s midsection and kicked her away. A fistful of Grace’s hair tore free in Vivian’s grip, but Grace didn’t care—she flew for the pool.
“After her! Beat her to death!” Vivian shrieked from the floor, clutching her stomach.
The women swarmed Grace again. Fists fell on her like rain. Her face swelled; blood trickled from her nose.
From inside the natatorium came a splash and Sophie’s cry for help, sharp as a blade through Grace’s eardrum. She hadn’t seen it, but she knew—Sophie had gone under. Sophie had taken lessons, but she barely dog‑paddled. Faced with terror, or bullied in the water, even that might fail her.
A feral fury surged out of Grace’s soul. She suddenly couldn’t feel any pain. Cornered like a mother beast, she exploded with strength, shoving the women away. When she reached Vivian, she swung and smashed a fist into her face.
Vivian screamed like a butchered pig. “Ah! You dare hit me? My nose—my new nose!” She clutched at the bridge, already knocked crooked, tears and snot streaming.
The others, spooked by Grace’s fury—and with no real grudge of their own—scattered and vanished.
Hair wild, eyes blood‑red, Grace threw the last of her strength into a sprint for the pool. Vivian tore after her like a madwoman. As Grace’s hand closed on the natatorium door handle, a brutal kick slammed into her back. She crashed to the cold tile.
She rolled and saw Vivian’s demonic smile. “Bitch, you want to save your daughter? Dream on.”
Grace crawled for the door, reaching to open it again—Vivian ground her heel down on Grace’s hand. Grace lunged and sank her teeth into Vivian’s calf. Blood flooded her mouth at once.
Vivian shrieked. “Ah! It hurts! You lunatic!”
“What are you doing?” Ethan’s voice cut in, icy. He bounded to Vivian’s side. Vivian collapsed into his arms, sobbing. “Ethan! Grace has gone insane! She kicked me, she bit me—she even broke my nose! Woo—no one’s ever humiliated me like this. You have to get justice for me.”
Grace didn’t hear a word. Staggering upright, she clutched the handle with both hands. Through the crack she saw a small body bobbing in the deep end—Sophie, sinking and surfacing, limbs flailing. “Help—” The moment her daughter tried to cry out, water flooded her mouth, then her lungs.
Tears surged from Grace’s eyes. “Sophie… Sophie… hold on, baby. Mommy’s coming.” But the door in front of her was locked.
